


Let's Do The Time-Warp

by dellaxstreet



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - The author is cruel and saves different characters from a horrible fate, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Biting as a method of Death Eater detection, F/M, Featuring: very sarcastic infants, Gen, Harry is a Little Shit, M/M, Mad-Eye is still the only one with observational skills, Questionable parenting choices, Sirius Black is a complete troll, Strap in guys the future will be weird and full of slapstick, Surprise! Lycanthropy does not improve personality flaws, Time travel has consequences kids, Voldemort is terrible at stealth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-17 07:58:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11271345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dellaxstreet/pseuds/dellaxstreet
Summary: Harry, in his stubborn belief that Sirius survived beyond the veil in the Department of Mysteries, succeeded in diving after his fallen godfather that fateful night instead of being held back by Remus Lupin's best efforts. In the process, he took Lupin with him through the veil and fell through the other side, where they both found themselves in an extraordinary situation.It's 1981, and their lives will never be the same again.





	1. Prologue

The first thing Harry noticed when he regained consciousness was the looming figure of a bizarre stuffed elephant, propped up beside his head. The second thing he noticed was that his pants were soaked through in the most unpleasant way he could possibly imagine, and he had no idea _why._ Something was whirling in the air lazily above his head, and he had the sudden, jarring thought that it might be some kind of mobile before immediately dismissing it.

Where was he, where was his wand, where was Lupin, where was _Sirius_?

For that matter, where was everyone else? This certainly wasn’t the Department of Mysteries, or if it was, then it was a very strange corner of it. Shifting from the position he lay in, Harry sat up, making a noise of protest when this made the situation with his clothing yet more uncomfortable still. Oddly, this resulted in a kind of strange gurgle.

Wandless, alone, and in a strange place… after falling through the veil desperately chasing his godfather. He remembered now, the freezing terror at the thought that he might have lost the one person who had truly tried to care for him like a parent would, that just as he gained something good it might be ripped away again…

“Sirius! SIRIUS!” Harry staggered to his feet, blinking as he realized wherever he was had railings, like some kind of pen. Even stranger, his voice came out in a high-pitched squeal.

Into the room darted the figure of a woman he had only seen in photographs, with long, dark red hair and vivid green eyes, her arms outstretched as she scooped him up out of what he belatedly realized was not a pen or a holding cell but a crib for a small child. Settling him against her shoulder, Lily Potter smiled gently and kissed the top of her son’s head.

“Aww, do you miss your uncle Padfoot already? He’ll come back and visit very soon, I promise.”

It was at this exact moment that Harry realized something had gone terribly, terribly wrong.


	2. Unstuck In Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sirius and Remus reunite, Peter visits the Potters with mildly disastrous results, and a plan forward between the trio is born.

Staring up at the grey expanse of sky above him, Sirius had two nearly simultaneous thoughts. The first was this: _I should have known my last words would be incredibly sarcastic._ The second was: _The afterlife looks a hell of a lot like Cornwall. I’ve been lied to by my advertising._

The last thing he remembered, before that jet of red light had knocked him squarely off his feet, Bellatrix’s sneering face triumphant enough that he wanted with his last ounce of conscious thought to wipe the smirk off every inch of it, was saying, “Come on, you can do better than that!” and taunting her. Honestly, he’d never give her the satisfaction of taking her seriously. Not in life, and clearly not in death.

Except… had that curse been fatal? It had felt like the uniquely kicked-by-a-hippogriff sensation only a Stunning Spell could provide, but Sirius couldn’t remember pain, blood, or anything else that suggested he’d been otherwise murdered. And the Killing Curse was decidedly a _green_ spell, of this he was certain.

So: He’d been Stunned and fallen through an archway fighting Bellatrix Lestrange so that his godson and Neville Longbottom along with several other injured children could limp to safety, assisted by Moony and other members of the Order. Also, he was not lying in the Department of Mysteries. And furthermore, this really looked like bloody _Cornwall._

Sitting up further than his elbows, Sirius blinked rapidly, shock washing over him in a slow wave as he reached swiftly for his wand. This wasn’t just Cornwall, this was Godric’s Hollow.

The two best ways to tell you were in a dream were that in dreams, you couldn’t feel pain, and you couldn’t taste things either. He shrugged one shoulder, and bent down to lick the back of his own hand, making a face. All right, clearly, he needed to wash up more often – and as he pinched himself just to be sure, his frown deepened. Definitely awake.

More to the point, since when did he paint his nails? He blinked down at the black polish which covered his fingernails, clearly freshly applied, adding this to the list of “things which make absolutely no bloody sense”.

Sirius shot to his feet, wand gripped firmly in hand. He needed to get back, Harry needed him, the Order needed him, for that matter, they could use all the help they could get, and here he was lying on the ground inexplicably in the middle of Godric’s Hollow lounging about like his lunatic cousin had just sent him on holiday.

“PADFOOT!”

He whirled, just in time to be yanked into a crushing embrace by none other than Remus, who seemed determined to do damage to his ribcage for a moment before his grip softened and he stepped back. “You’re alive! And you look so… so…” The other man blinked, wide-eyed, looking Sirius up and down like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing, trailing off as words seemed to fail him.

Words failed his companion for a moment as well, because the Remus Lupin standing before him was not the one who had just been dueling beside him not long ago. That man was fifteen years older and bore far more battle scars, had a faraway look in his eyes which said he was used to being an island, that he never expected to be anything else. This man was twenty-one and far more vulnerable, many of his scars still pink with the newness of youth. His mouth tipped up slightly at one corner, a private joke hidden there.

“If I look anything like you, Moony, then I’m in desperate need of a hairbrush,” he said at last, grinning from ear to ear with newfound eagerness.

Reaching out with one hand, Remus shoved at his shoulder, knocking him back half a step. “Shut it, Pads. I’m a tormented, Byronic hero. We have to be disheveled.”

“Bionic? What, like, a robot hanging round in windows posing with the drapes?”

“Your lack of education sometimes makes me weep for this generation.”

Sirius shook his head dismissively, though the thought flickered unbidden across his mind that whichever version of this scenario involved running around posing mussed and hanging on the drapes was all right with him. He blinked, wondering where it had come from. Long-term dementor exposure was about as effective a lifetime libido suppressant as anyone had ever invented, but apparently new bodies came with new rules.

“So _why_ the bloody hell are we in the middle of Godric’s Hollow? And suddenly looking like this? I’ve got no desire to leave Harry alone with cousin Bella any longer than I have to.”

Remus frowned, considering. “Some sort of combination of an Age Line and an Ageing Potion, perhaps, designed to take anyone of a certain age and then push them backwards a certain number of years? If that is the case then this is temporary, but that wouldn’t explain why we’re here… the veil would have to be a Portkey… so where is it?”

“Basically, what you’re saying is that us being here violates all the laws of space, time, and physics? _Wicked._ Horribly timed, but wicked.” Sirius turned in a slow circle, eyeing the alley they were standing in, and then held up a hand, eyes narrowing as he thought of something. “I’m having a thought. A completely mad one, but a thought. I mean, it still violates all the laws of space, time, and physics, not to mention magic, so no wonder they kept that thing locked up, but...”

He took off at a slow trot with Remus on his heels until they reached a nearby newspaper stand and he could pick up the Daily Prophet off the top of a stack, paying before he turned to face his companion and hold up the date, pointing to it in small, bold letters: _June 30, 1981._

When they were some distance away from the vendor, Remus raised his eyebrows. “That’s not how time travel works, Sirius! No one can go more than five hours at a time without seriously risking damage to their own timeline! A witch once traveled hundreds of years and when she got back, she aged all of them! This is why the Ministry invented TimeTurners!”

“Well, you have to admit, if this _is_ really time travel and not us going slowly insane, it would be pretty clever to de-age us when we traveled fifteen years. That way if we go back, we age fifteen, and we don’t change at all.”

There was a very pregnant pause. “If we were going insane, would we be speculating about it?”

“Nah, we’d just be enjoying the ride. It seems unfair, somehow.”

Suddenly, the color drained from Remus’s face as he studied the date on the newspaper. _June 30, 1981._ Harry had come through with him first, and that meant he had also aged down fifteen years… “Shit. Sirius, somewhere in this town, there’s a teenager trapped inside a baby, and we need to find him. _Now._ ”

 

* * *

 

The icy ring slid in and out of Harry’s mouth, at least somewhat soothing the ache currently throbbing through his gums. There were potions to give him if it got really bad, but they all tasted horrific, as he’d discovered the last time his mother had tried to apply a few drops and he’d thrown up all over the collar of her white shirt. Rather than go that route, he was simply ensconced on the floor, chewing chilled plastic.

This was his life now. He was teething. Not long ago he’d been worried about making a good impression on girls and how to talk to them when he was the least charming person alive, and now he was _teething._ He currently had a grand total of six teeth to his name, no wand, no broom, and was not officially potty trained.

Being taken in and out of diapers was humiliating, to say the least. It was a simple operation he’d been doing for the entirety of his own living memory, and they wouldn’t let him do it himself! Instead they swathed him in uncomfortable cotton and vinyl and then made him screech for attention like some kind of howler monkey. The highlight of his day had been getting his toy snitch to finally levitate off the floor for an inch or two, for crying out loud.

When Harry had snuck off to try and use the toilet in the middle of the night, he’d miscalculated his balance climbing on. One moment he’d been fine, the next… he’d landed in the toilet bowl with a splash and a thunk loud enough to wake up his father. Who had apparently thought it was hilarious enough to photograph.

Now this would be an eternally memorialized childhood memory: The time baby Harry climbed in the toilet and went swimming. He _hated_ infancy.

So to say that he was not in a good mood already when Peter Pettigrew walked in through the door of the Potters’ home was an understatement. He took one look at the man and seethed on the inside, remembering his protests about how anyone would have done the same throwing Lily and James to the wolves, about how hard and frightening loyalty was.

Just because he had kept Sirius and Remus from killing the man didn’t mean that after almost forty-eight hours of actually getting to live with Lily and James as his actual parents instead of as an orphan, the way he’d always been, because of the way Peter had _made him_ , he wasn’t livid. He really was.

The hands which Wormtail extended toward Harry had a faintly nervous tremor in them, and he made a point of pulling a face at the man. “Silly,” he offered.

Beside him, James laughed. “He’s right, you have nothing to be nervous about, Pete. You’ll be fine.”

_Well, nothing to be nervous about except the fact that you’re a duplicitous double agent spy and I’m on to you and I may only be one year old but I will find a way to take you down, just you watch._ Harry settled into Peter’s arms as the man hefted him, getting into position. _And the fact that I now have six very sharp teeth._

He leaned in to Wormtail’s earlobe, caught it, and bit. Hard.

“I’m sorry, Pete! I’m so sorry! He’s teething, he’s been biting everything lately, I don’t know what came over him, really I don’t...” Lily rushed forward to assist as Harry’s victim howled in pain, fragile skin torn.

At that precise moment, the front door opened to admit Sirius and Remus, who paused to take in the sight of Peter cradling his bleeding earlobe with Lily’s assistance, while James dabbed Harry’s face dry with his wand and struggled to keep a straight face. Sirius’s mouth quivered dangerously for a moment, until Remus elbowed him hard in the ribs.

“I see teething is still a trial and error process?” asked Remus airily, stepping on Sirius’s foot this time as he made a sound like a suppressed snort.

Lily turned, cutting her eyes over to Sirius for a moment. Her gaze narrowed slightly, before she said, “Sadly, yes, it’s a little like housebreaking a new _dog_ that way. He’ll look for anything he can to cut his teeth on.”

James, who was done decontaminating his son, suppressed a snort of his own and turned to Peter. “Sorry about that, mate, I swear we’ll make it up to you next time you come round. Maybe you’d best be off, get that checked out?”

From the expression on Peter’s face, he had never been so glad to hear the suggestion that he leave a room in his entire life. He nodded. “Until next time, then. Great to see you all, of course!”

Behind Peter’s retreating back, Harry stuck out his tongue.

“We can look after him for a bit, if you like?” Sirius offered, reaching out his arms to James. “Leave you two some time to relax by yourselves for a change? I promise I’ll keep Moony here in case of logic emergencies.”

A sly grin worked its way onto James’s face as he turned to eye his wife sidelong for a moment. “You know, my little Lilyflower, it has been too long since we did any relaxing, now that I think about it…”

_Please let spontaneous combustion be a thing. Please let spontaneous combustion be a thing. Please, let it be possible to either catch fire of your own free will or sink through the floor and go somewhere that is not this room overhearing this conversation. People will say anything in front of a baby just because they think I can’t understand what they’re saying!_

Lily eyed him. “Remember that relaxing we were planning to do, ever again?”

“Say no more.” He put his hands up. “Privacy.”

Rounding on Sirius, she added, suspicion creeping into her voice, “Why the sudden interest in looking after Harry?”

Now the motion he made as he reached out toward Harry was almost plaintive as he offered a broad grin, studying his godson as he did so. “I don’t get to see as much of him as I used to now that you two are off in your evil-proofed ivory tower, Lily. Is it so wrong for a godfather to want to catch up with his godson, and enlist his… werewolf sidekick to come along for the outing?”

Remus cleared his throat. “I am _not_ a sidekick. I will accept partner in crime or accomplice, but never sidekick.”

“Alright, Pads, but if anything catches fire...” James handed Harry gingerly over to Sirius, who took him carefully away from his father and lifted him up against one shoulder.

“Call Lily first?”

Lily rolled her eyes at them both, reaching out to take her husband by the hand and tug him from the room. Sirius waited until both Potters were gone, listening for the sound of the bedroom door shutting firmly, before he set Harry down on the sofa and blinked down at him.

“So, can you talk?”

Harry folded his arms, glaring. “No shit, I can talk.” But in his high, squeaky tones it did not sound nearly as intimidating or as angry as he needed it to.

Remus pressed the heel of his hand to his mouth, clearly trying to keep a straight face for a moment. “I truly am sorry that this has happened to you, Harry. At least we have some grasp of what was happening to us at this particular time, whereas I’m afraid you had yet to form memories… it’s the first of July, 1981. The prophecy has been read, your parents are in hiding, Sirius is still Secret Keeper for now, and in two weeks, members of the Order are going to begin dropping like flies.”

The anger which had been bubbling back up faded, replaced by horror. This must be right after the Order took that photograph, perhaps even a day or two. Which meant… in two weeks, the McKinnons were going to die first. And then an unstoppable chain of events was going to start killing them off all, one by one. Unless it didn’t have to… they knew when and for the most part where the deaths happened, didn’t they? They could stop it.

Harry could see the moment that Sirius and Remus reached roughly the same conclusions, from the looks of sudden uncertainty mingled with resolve forming on their faces. “They don’t have to die. We could save them.”

Remus shook his head. “You can’t change things too much or you might accidentally become your own great-great-grandfather. You might erase yourself out of existence! In fact, the changes to the timeline you’re talking about, on that kind of scale… we’d all almost certainly erase ourselves from existence. That’s how time travel works.”

Sirius leaned forward, a steely look in his eye. “But it would be worth it. For Marlene. For Dorcas. For Benjy. For Caradoc. For Edgar. For Gideon. For Fabian. For Frank. For Alice. For _Lily_. For _James._ So what if we erase ourselves from existence? Isn’t that a sacrifice worth making, for them? For this war?”

All those people, whose lives would go on… Harry nodded. “It is.”

Remus nodded too. “It is. The only question is, how do we save them? How do we take what we know, and find the enemy before they find us?”

And that was when a thought slid across Harry’s mind. For an enemy who had absolutely no desire to be found, theirs had left themselves open to one particular avenue that might just prove extremely useful.


End file.
